Caged
by Flamecaster15
Summary: Alex was raised as a mercenary. When her father sends her on another mission to capture a strange girl with red hair, she barely gives it a second thought. She is confident in her abilities until she comes face to face with a man named Obi. Although she fears the man with the eyes of a predator, she refuses to show any weakness. At least, until her feelings start to evolve.
1. Chapter 1

I do not have any rights to the Snow White with the Red Hair franchise or any of the characters except my OC. This story takes place after season 2 of the anime. I have taken certain liberties with the characters so please excuse anything that may seem out of character. I hope you enjoy my first attempt at a fanfic!

I was looking into the eyes of a predator. Sure, I'd faced many dangers before this, and I came out relatively intact. Just a few scars on my back and arms from my early years.

However, this particular scenario was more dangerous. The previous trials I had faced rarely made me question my survival. This hunter, however, had the capability to kill me.

Of course, it was my failure that led to this predicament. I'd heard the stories and forewarnings but chose to ignore them believing my skills would allow me to complete my mission without harm. Now that I faced the monster, I truly understood my position. If I wanted to beat such a creature, I would have to unleash my own monster. The one that only desires blood and its own survival. I'd fought for four years to rid myself of my inner beast, and I had no desire to surrender to it now.

As I gather my wits and brace for battle, I suddenly hear a slight swish of fabric behind me. I quickly maneuver into a position to face my new attacker while keeping the first predator in sight. As I take in the image of a young guard (young enough to be recruited yesterday) coming toward me, I realize I have been fooled. I feel three sharp stabs in my body: one in my leg, one in my knife arm, and one at the base of my neck.

Then, everything went black.

I was caught in a haze somewhere between the dream world and reality. I dreamt of how I met my father or at least the closest thing I had to one. I've never met my blood father and had no desire ever to do so unless it was to greet what was left of his heart with the tip of my blade.

I'd been born to a religious woman. She couldn't have been older than 16 when she had me. I was not conceived by choice but by force from a man who did not know my mother's name. She would have kept me if I had not been cursed with my father's eyes, the eyes of the devil. One as dark as the mud scattered in the streets and the other as blue as the sky on a clear day. His eyes were the only thing my mother could see that night I was conceived. They haunted her nightmares for nine months before she saw them in the face of a baby she did not even want.

She tried to move past it and be the good religious woman her family would have wanted. She kept me until the age of 4. Four long years she agonized over the child that only reminded her of her pain and proceeded to remind that child of it every single day. Part of me is angered she would be so selfish and wished she had seen me for the child I was. A larger part, however, sympathizes for the woman. I think in the end, the trauma drove her to insanity.

Just when her mind was about to break, my father swooped in to save the day. I wish I could say it was a happy ending, but it was only the beginning of something far worse. He offered to take care of me far away from her sight. He even offered to pay for me like I was livestock that could be bought and sold. She pounced at the chance to gain money and get me out of her sight with relatively little guilt on her part.

As I was carted off to what would soon be my personal hell, I couldn't help looking back hoping that just once that my mother would show some concern for me beyond moral obligation. She was already gone.

I felt a pounding in my skull like never before. It was like a legion of war horses decided to collectively stomp their hooves on top of my head. I let out a soft grunt of pain without even realizing it. I tried to move my hands to massage my temples when I felt resistance and heard a soft clank. I used what little strength I had left to peel my eyes open. It was relatively dark so the light didn't blind me at least.

As my eyes adjusted, I realized I was in a cell shackled to a wall. The chains had enough length to them that I could lay on the ground easily and get within three feet of the cell door if I stretched them to their full length. The door itself was quite impressive. A solid chunk of metal with a few small hatches that could be opened from the outside to toss in food or just peek into the cell. The only source of light was from a torch outside the room that filtered in through a small grate at the top of the door.

Once I gathered my bearings, I heard a muffled voice almost like a whisper trickle through the door.

"The sharpshooter went a little overboard with the tranquilizer darts. Three were enough to down an elephant. Glad you are finally awake."

The voice was a rather pleasant male voice and was soft enough not to bother my head. A shocking discovery in a place such as this. I picture the giant creature known as an elephant in my head. Most commoners wouldn't have heard of the creature before, much less know what it looks like. The only reason I know is because my father insisted on an education. You wouldn't be a good mercenary if you couldn't blend in with the locals.

I knew better than to reveal my knowledge to this stranger so quickly. If he had suspected me to be a commoner, he would have said something along the lines of downing multiple horses. I decided instead to ask a question in return.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Three days."

Three days?! A simple statement set to condemn me. My father would not be pleased that I had been gone so long. No excuse short of death would save me from his wrath and my impending punishment. My scar count would likely go up.

I try to remain nonchalant while I continue fishing for more information, but my questions are continually met with silence.

"Why am I being held here?"

"Will I have a trial?"

On and on I ramble off questions to the point I am sure the other person has left out of annoyance. In a desperate effort to get some type of response, I quickly ask the voice "What is your name?". I sit in silence for what seems like eternity before I hear the voice whisper back.

"Obi"

When I glance up in surprise from hearing the response, my eyes meet those of the predator.


	2. Chapter 2

Lupe55: Thank you so much for the wonderful feedback! I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

I scraped my fingers across the filthy cell floor feeling the dirt and heaven knows what else cake beneath my nails and onto my fingertips. My hands are the only part of me that portrays any emotion. I work hard to keep my face completely neutral. I had heard many stories about this man. Although he currently went by Obi, he had been known by many different names amongst the scourge of the community. All of which were spoken in whispers as if fearing that speaking his name would summon him from the shadows. Even my father would have viewed him as a worthy opponent.

I decided to face this man head on. My father taught me that fear was weakness, and weaknesses were what get you killed. If I was going to die here, I'd be damn sure to die with as much dignity as I could muster.

"Well Obi do you happen to have any water that doesn't smell like urine because I'm absolutely parched. Any food would also be appreciated. Don't want your prisoner to die from malnourishment before the interrogation, right?"

"Depends, are you going to tell me your name?"

I mentally flipped through my collection of names debating which one would be safest to use. Although my birth name was Alexandria, father taught me to never give my real name to an enemy. I decided to settle for the first name that came to mind.

"You can call me Zara."

I saw him smirk through the grate in the door before turning around and disappearing. I listened for footsteps as he walked away but heard nothing but a slight whisper of material. Even when swaggering through the halls, he was as quiet as a mouse. Just as I thought he was gone, I heard him call from the end of what must have been a hallway.

"I'll see what I can do."

Part of my training as a mercenary was being able to go extended periods of time with no food or water. We were told the training was to prepare us for long-term missions in arid regions, but I knew that wasn't the complete truth. Father wasn't the type to be concerned for his followers. He only cared about protecting himself. The true reason for the conditioning was most likely to prevent his underlings from trading information about the underground for food or water when faced with torture by starvation or dehydration. I was hoping I wouldn't have to put this training into practice for much longer because I was reaching my limit. My head was still pounding, but now I wasn't sure if it was from the sedative or dehydration.

Shortly after Obi had left, a guard had entered my cell with a cup of water and a plate. He set the items on the floor and slowly pushed them toward me with his boot while holding his sword at the ready. It was intriguing that the guard was being so cautious but at the same time kind enough not to throw the food or water at me. Sitting on the plate was some bread and even a little meat. I was shocked they would give a prisoner such an extravagant meal. I quickly shot a look from the plate to the guard suspicious due to the strange generosity. He seemed oblivious to my concern as he reached into his pocket to pull out a small bundle.

"Mix these with your water" he said as he tossed the scrap of cloth to me. I quickly examined the bundle to find a mix of finely ground plants wrapped in the center.

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"It's to prevent your body from rejecting the food and to help relieve any residual pain from the sedative."

"Oh…thanks?"

I was stunned by his answer. I watched for any signs that he was lying but could not see any no matter how hard I looked. Either he was an expert at deception or he was telling the truth.

"It was not my decision. I was only told to bring them directly to you. There was speculation amongst the healers that you would refuse to consume anything for fear of it being tampered with."

I leaned over to sniff the herbs and detected hints of mint and other scents I associated with healers. If there were any poisons mixed in, I was not able to identify them. I then inspected the cup containing water and all the other items the guard had provided. Once I had examined everything closely, my hunger convinced me to take the risk.

I added the mix of medicines to my water and immediately started gulping it down. It took all my willpower not to just chug the whole glass in one go. I then went on to consume every piece of food on my plate. The guard left once he saw I had chosen to take the medicine. As he walked out of the cell, he called over his shoulder to tell me just to toss the plate and cup toward the door when I was finished.

I tossed the dishes toward the door as instructed then reclined on the floor to debate what was in my future. I needed to plan an escape as soon as possible. The longer I stayed here, the more that father's wrath would grow. First, I needed to get a better understanding of my surroundings which would take far more time than I would like. As I sat there, I felt exhaustion pull at my eyelids. I decided it was best to rest while I could so I let myself slowly drift to sleep.

That night, I dreamt of my first mission as a mercenary. It had been a simple assignment. I was told to tag along with two older followers of father to help them protect a caravan that had hired us. The adult mercenaries were composed of one man and one woman. I didn't know much about the man, but the woman was a favorite of mine. She was the closest thing I had to a mother since I had been brought to the base by father. Father may have taught me how to be a mercenary, but she taught me how to survive in a den filled with treacherous men. She was the one originally named Zara and I was the one who killed her.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the super late update guys, but this is a longer chapter to make up for it! Thank you to my new followers/favorites for your support! I hope you enjoy this update.

I sat on the floor of the tent enjoying the feeling of having my brunette hair brushed then braided. Zara sat behind me humming as she continued to weave my hair into a more manageable form. Although she had taught me how to tame my hair a long time ago, I insisted she still help me whenever she had the chance. I enjoyed the attention from her because most of the people here preferred to ignore me for the past nine years I have lived here unless they were helping with my training. After she finished braiding my hair, we both exited the tent to attend to our duties.

When father first brought me here, I was awe struck. He decided to make a system of caves in the mountains into the foundation for his kingdom. At the center of the maze is a large cavern that houses the main operations of father's crime ring. The ceiling stretched about thirty feet in the air. A system of small streams weaved throughout the cavern only to meet at the edge of the room to flow down a pit I can only assume leads down the mountain. The sheer drop down the pit into complete darkness deterred anyone from finding out.

I quickly ran over to the weapons training area to work on my daily routine. I was a dedicated student. Once trainees came to be seven years of age, they were taught to fight with weapons made of iron and steel. Training became more about survival after that point because there were no dulled blades or special armor to protect you. I had the privilege of watching three of my peers die in practice duels since coming of age. Many others have been permanently maimed or scarred in the mock battles. I certainly have obtained a collection of scars of my own from my mistakes, but I also have given my fair share.

Today, however, was a special stepping stone in my career as a mercenary. Today I am going to be assigned my first official mission. All trainees become eligible once they reach thirteen years old, and it was now my turn. As I was practicing my knife throwing, I was approached by one of father's grunts that instructed me to report to Grim, one of father's higher ups, once I finished running through my weapon drills. I merely nodded in acknowledgement before continuing my practice. Father always kept a few "expendable" grunts nearby to act as his errand boys. I rarely took the time to get to know them because father cycled through them so fast. Just in the last two weeks five grunts died while running messages to father's networks situated in other nations. I am almost certain that most of the deaths were not accidents. Father despised loose ends.

Grim, however, was another story. I could feel the dread curling in my stomach as I mindlessly threw the knife at a vaguely human shaped target. Unlike most mercenaries, he did not earn his name in the field. He was one of the people responsible for assigning missions to father's followers. Many followers referred to these people as the Jury because they determined what your future would hold. Father, of course, was the Judge and had the final say in all assignments. Those who were favored by the Jury or the Judge received easy missions that led to large payouts. The juror who normally gave these missions was known as Midas. Those who were hated, however, were given death sentences in mission form. These missions were normally handed out by Grim, hence the name. This was definitely not a good omen for my first mission.

I strolled toward Grim's tent hoping this would be as painless as possible. It was relatively easy to find the tent considering its massive size. The Jury had some of the largest tents in the cavern that were only overshadowed by Father's castle of tent. I took a quick breath to brace myself for what was to come before heading to the entrance. Sometimes, Grim would give out normal missions too. I was praying I was one of the lucky ones. As I entered the tent, I spotted four people huddled around a table looking over what appeared to be a map. The first one I immediately recognized as Zara. Her commanding presence and striking features dominated the room. She towered just as high as the men in the room and had the added advantage of her weapons of choice she referred to as her claws firmly strapped to her belt. I was mildly distracted by the swirls of the gold tattoo decorating the skin of her left arm before movement drew my attention to the other three people in the room. I quickly identified Grim and Midas which surprised me. It was rare that two jurors were involved in an assignment, especially these two. I did not know the third man, but I recognized him as one of the inhabitants of the cavern.

"Alex, you're just in time, we were about to discuss our travel route."

I felt relief rush through me at Zara's words. The fact that she was here with Midas definitely made my mission prospects look brighter, and her use of "our" implied she would be going with me. I quickly stride toward the table to gain a better view of the map and listen to my elders discuss the details of the mission. My nerves made it hard to fully concentrate but the gist of the mission was we were hired to guard a caravan belonging to a wealthy merchant as he transported his goods from a town nearby to a city that was about three days travel away. It was expected to take about a week to complete the mission. The only problem was the direct route from the town to the city led through a valley with a forest that was infested with common thieves. The merchant wanted to travel fast so he made sure to pay a higher price to ensure he received capable fighters. The pay was only enough for two experts who I can only assume are Zara and the stranger. I was instructed to follow them to gain experience and help keep the caravan traveling at a fast pace. We were to leave tomorrow at first light.

I packed my bag as soon as I returned to my tent. I decided to pack light to prepare for the fast pace of the journey. I grabbed dried food, water, a change of clothes, extra throwing knives, and some money that Zara had given me for my first mission. I doubt she had expected to go with me. I wrapped my supplies in the warmest blanket I had and fashioned it into a satchel. I also set aside my belt filled with throwing knives and two slightly longer blades that could be used in hand-to-hand combat. After finishing my preparations, I decided to sleep while I could. I had no desire to start the journey exhausted because I knew the journey would allow very little sleep. I knew the effects of exhaustion thanks to the sleep depravation exercises we did every few months in training. The trainers would force us to stay awake to train for three days straight with minimal breaks and no sleep. If you were caught sleeping during that time, your day count would start over and they would add more time to the exercise for everyone. By day three, people would contemplate killing the weak links. With that cheery thought in my mind, I quickly lay down and go to sleep.

Two days have passed since leaving the cavern and we are in the heart of the forest. We have yet to see any signs of humans other than us. The merchant, a portly fellow who was a bit too obnoxious for my taste, was obviously beginning to feel complacent as the danger seemed nonexistent. He even suggested stopping for the night to rest and "eat a real meal." Despite Zara's protests, the merchant insisted and refused to let the caravan travel any further. He even had the gall to demand we set up a fire in the center of camp. Both Zara and our traveling companion I came to know as Barnabus vehemently rejected the notion and explained the dangers of drawing attention to ourselves. The merchant huffed clearly put out by their concern for his safety but conceded their point as long as they allowed the caravan to stop for the night. The man was quickly turning out to be quite a fool. Zara, Barnabus, and I quickly took up a triangle formation around the camp. They each took up a point looking out into the forest while I faced the road. This was assumed to be the best formation since any thieves are more likely to emerge from the forest.

Hours passed where all I could hear was rodents scurrying in the underbrush, owls hunting said rodents, and the obnoxious snoring of the merchant. I'm not sure the merchant could be any louder if he tried. I was studying the edge of one of my blades noting it needed to be sharpened when I suddenly heard footsteps. I quickly assume a fighting position while I scan the area. I immediately spot a man strolling towards me from the road. It was definitely an odd sight considering we hadn't seen anyone for two days.

"State your purpose!" I tried to make my voice sound strong and commanding but I ended up sounding more strained.

The man stopped walking and calmly asked, "Do you know where the closest town is? I have been traveling for some time and have grown weary of the road." He wore a cloak with a hood that obscured the upper portion of his face. All I could see was a mouth and the point of a nose.

I was still tense as I explained that the closest town was a little over a day's walk if he continued down the road. He simply smiled in reply and continued down the path. I contemplated telling Zara about the incident immediately but decided it would be better to report it in the morning when we continued the journey instead of leaving my post.

About another hour passed without any incidents until I hear a scuffle happening on the other side of the camp. I quickly sprint over to the source of the sound planning to help my comrades. It's dark since there was no light source except the moon and stars which were blocked by the trees. At least my post by the road had more light. I crept toward the trees where the sound is the loudest hoping to catch any enemies by surprise. As I caught a glimpse of the fight, I felt my heart rate speed up. Both Zara and Barnabus were surrounded by what had to be twenty armed men. I can only assume that Zara had heard the fight too and rushed to help Barnabus. Normally, Zara could have taken on at least 20 common thieves. I wouldn't even be surprised if she faced off with 20 soldiers on her own. Barnabus had to be almost as capable as her to be selected for the mission. However, I watched as the two took on the group and quickly realized they were at a disadvantage. These were no ordinary men. They fought with skill that rivaled that of my elders. I watched as Zara struck out with absolute power and fury against each opponent. In that moment, I saw a warrior with the grace of a queen. She had her claws firmly secured on each of her fingers. I saw the metal flash as she dug the metal hooks into the thigh of one of the enemy men. Barnabus fought with equal ferocity. His choice of weapon was a mace. A huge bulky thing he managed to maneuver with such precision that it appeared to be an extension of his arm.

Each blow they dealt was returned in equal measure by the enemies. I needed to turn the fight in our favor soon or else we would be overcome. I quickly drew three of my throwing daggers from my belt as I prepared to strike. As I watched, I picked out three men who I thought posed the most danger. Two of them were wielding broadswords while the third had a spear. I took aim and fired each knife in rapid succession. The first landed firmly between my target's eyes. The second struck true as it pierced the man's neck. The final, however, managed to shift just enough that my dagger only struck his shoulder. I had taken to long to throw the last knife. With my comrades' efforts the enemy count was down to fifteen with three severely injured. I felt the tiniest swell of hope when I realized how much damage we had done, but Zara and Barnabus were definitely in bad shape. I spotted blood running down the side of Zara's head and a deep wound on Barnabus' arm. We would not be able to fight for long. I quickly drew three more daggers intending to take out more men when I hear someone approaching from the woods to my right. I swivel to face my new attacker.

The man from the road strides up to me with much more menace than before. I move to throw my dagger at him when I realize he is clutching a bo staff. I follow through with the motion hoping to catch him off guard, but a swing of his staff easily knocks the knife to the ground. Of course, he would bring a weapon that would have an advantage. I was foolish enough to show him my weapon of choice in our earlier encounter. I begin to circle around when he starts rotating his staff with ease and unrivaled grace. It was going to be tough to break his defense while avoiding any strikes. In my effort to pack light, I had failed to bring any close combat gear other than the two small blades strapped to my hips. I would have to use my speed and small stature to gain any advantage I could.

Once I got into position, I drew my blades as I ran forward towards my foe. When I was just within striking distance of his staff, I jump to the right and use my momentum to roll into a standing position. He had been fooled by my charge and was caught mid-strike with his staff hitting the ground where I used to be. I charge forward with my blades ready. I spot my target and strike. With my left blade, I swing toward his stomach forcing him to block by swinging his staff up from the ground. I follow through by swinging my right blade downward aimed at the end of the staff and strike true. Thankfully, the staff had been weakened by my throwing knife earlier. With the strike of my blade, I heard a crack as the staff splintered. My arm was too weak and my blade was too dull to completely break the weapon but it had done enough damage to hinder its effectiveness. My victory was short-lived. The man quickly countered by swinging the staff so the undamaged end was aimed for my unprotected left side.

I managed to dodge just enough that my upper arm took the brunt of the attack instead of my head. I heard a crack and knew it wasn't the staff this time. I felt a sharp pain and lost the ability to move my arm as my bone shattered. I heard my left blade hit the grass below me. He swept the staff toward my feet knocking me to the ground too. I felt my head collide with a rock in the ground and a wave of dizziness passed over me. I was going to lose.

I looked up with slightly blurred vision as my attacker hovered over me. I braced for the next blow when I saw the man straighten and a flash of metal where his shoulder should be. I blinked and he was suddenly gone. Someone was squatting beside me whispering. I heard clanking of what I assumed to be a fight in the distance. I tried to focus despite the pain in my arm and head. I finally saw an arm with the familiar gold tattoo and knew it was Zara beside me. As my vision slowly began to focus, I realized that Zara was trying to keep me awake. Kind of an ironic situation since she didn't look much better than I thought I did. I could see exhaustion etched into her face only emphasized by the blood smeared across it. I opened my mouth not even knowing what I was going to say when I felt my eyes open wide in absolute horror. The man from the road still wearing his cloak struck Zara from behind using the blade I had dropped earlier in the battle. Shock flashed across Zara's face and an awful sucking sound followed as the man withdrew my blade from her heart.

I sprung awake with a roar immediately scrambling into a fighting position. I felt like a cornered feral animal. My arms and legs did not move properly and I heard a strange clanking sound. As my mind slowly focused and realized there was no one there, I remembered where I was. I was chained to a wall in a cell. It had only been a nightmare…no, a memory I wished was only nightmare. It had been a while since I had dreamed of the night of Zara's death. I didn't know if it was brought on by my use of her name or my fear from the night of my capture or something else entirely, but I knew two things. I needed to escape before this place drove me closer to madness, and I had a plan.


End file.
